


Twirl Me in Your Arms

by Sammybunny711



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Anxiety, Canon Universe, Drama, Explicit Consent, Fade to black sex, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Grand Prix Final Banquet, Happy Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rivalry, Romance, Separation and Reunion, Slow Burn, Viktor POV, Yuuri POV, alternating pov, drunk yuuri, pairs skating, pairs skating au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 21:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11997984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammybunny711/pseuds/Sammybunny711
Summary: Katsuki Yuuri is a pairs skater with Phichit Chulanont as his partner. When Yuuri suffers a fall and puts them in last place at the Grand Prix Final, he slinks off home in disgrace to take a season off. However, when none other than his idol and pairs skating champion Viktor Nikiforov shows up at Yu-Topia Katsuki with his skating partner, coach, and fellow Russian competitor in tow, Yuuri's safe haven becomes anything but. Can he somehow manage to operate like a normal human being around the man he looks up to above all others or will he inevitably screw it up?





	Twirl Me in Your Arms

When Viktor Nikiforov and his contingent of skaters showed up on the doorstep of Yu-Topia Katsuki one frigid autumn morning, Yuuri thought he was dreaming.  _ Had to be dreaming. _

“We have a reservation for four to stay for two weeks!” Viktor said as he draped himself across the counter in front of the registration window.

Yuuri flushed violently and scrambled through the logbook. Mari had said  _ nothing  _ about this to him. Nothing at all. Neither had his parents. His heart fell into his shoes as he did, in fact, find the reservation for Viktor’s party under his coach Yakov’s name.

“I’ve got your r-reservation right here, Mr. Nikiforov,” Yuuri stammered, going to the pegboard that held the keys to various rooms. “I’ve got you down for four rooms?”

“That’s right,” Viktor beamed, his heart-shaped mouth smiling right through all of Yuuri’s resolve to stay calm. 

Viktor freaking Nikiforov was in his family’s onsen. How could his traitorous family have conveniently forgotten to tell him about this?! 

Yuuri brought over the keys and tried not to let his jittery hands drop them anywhere but into Viktor’s hands. Payment had been handled in advance, thankfully, so Yuuri didn’t have to broach that awkward subject. 

“Thank you…” Viktor raised an eyebrow, peering at Yuuri with an intensity that sent shivers through his spine.. 

“Er, Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri,” he said before he actually ran the idea of giving his name away through his head. 

“Katsuki Yuuri...don’t I know you?” Viktor asked, blinking. 

Yuuri’s face rocketed straight through red and all the way to purple.  _ I’m a nobody who destroyed my pair skate with Phichit at the last Grand Prix Final. No big deal. Nothing to see here. _

“You’re a skater, aren’t you? Are you competing at the NHK Trophy with us?” Viktor leaned his head to the side, that smile still plastered on his too-handsome face. 

Yuuri shook his head. Before he could elaborate, the diminutive figure of Yakov Feltsman came into view. 

“Vitya, stop pestering Katsuki. I for one am exhausted,” he grumbled. 

So Yakov remembered him too, did he? Yuuri wanted to die. 

“I can show you to your rooms,” Mari said, appearing, as if by magic inside the entryway. As she came down to help with their copious bags, she shot Yuuri a sly grin. 

He was going to murder her. 

Viktor gave him one last curious glance before he picked up the handle to his large piece of luggage and followed Mari up into the inn and down the hall. 

Yuuri watched them go, taking in the tall female skater with flaming auburn hair. Mila Babicheva winked at him as she passed the window. Viktor’s pairs partner. Next passed a face he knew all too well. Yuri Plisetsky--the Russian Punk. This was his first year in the senior division and he’d already won gold at the Rostelecom Cup with his skating partner Otabek Altin.

“Retired already, Katsuki?” Yuri spat. 

Yuuri’s eyes widened. Was he retired? He’d told Celestino he was just taking the year off, but what if that year turned into two? Three? Rather than answer, he turned away and Yuri huffed before trailing after his fellow skaters. When they were all gone, Yuuri slumped against the wall of the small room and clutched his chest. 

Viktor Nikiforov was in his house. Would bathe naked in their hot springs. What in the world? 

About a quarter hour later, Mari came to the window, a cigarette on her lips.

“Explain,” Yuuri hissed. 

Mari shrugged. “Surprise,” she said, deadpan, blowing smoke in his face. 

“You didn’t think to tell me that my idol was coming to stay at our inn? You didn’t think that might be information I’d want to know?”

Her brown eyes rolled to meet his. “You’d have conveniently found yourself busy elsewhere if you’d known about it beforehand. This is better. Now I get to watch you fumble around for two weeks while the Russian skaters preen and grace us with their godly presence.”

“Mari!” he groused through gritted teeth. 

“Sorry, gotta go, little bro. Guests to satisfy.”

She left him there at the window staring dumbly at the empty place she left behind. 

Within seconds, his phone was in his hand. 

 

* * *

 

 

**Yuuri:** You will NEVER guess who is staying at my parents’ onsen…

 

**Phichit:** _ Who? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ _

 

**Yuuri:** Viktor Nikiforov, two other Russian skaters, and their coach Yakov… (O_O)

 

**Phichit:** _ Oh mah gawd. You have to take selfies with all of them and send them so I can post them on my Instagram. PLLLLEEEEEAAAASSSEEE. _

 

**Yuuri:** No. 

 

**Phichit:** _ But I said please.  _

 

**Yuuri:** No

 

**Phichit:** _ Okay...spoilsport. Why are they there anyway?  _

 

**Yuuri:** I totally forgot that Viktor and Mila were competing at the NHK Trophy!

 

**Phichit:** _ Don’t you wish we’d competed this year? _ （’へ’）

 

**Yuuri:** NO!!!（；¬＿¬)

 

**Phichit:** _ Gotta go, bud. Keep me posted.  _

 

**Yuuri:** Will do. ((T^T))

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri had been head over heels for Viktor Nikiforov since the legend was still doing singles skating in his junior days. Yuuri’s walls were papered with posters depicting the angelic skater - - all silvery hair and bewitching eyes. Sometimes at night, he couldn't help but stare at them until he fell asleep. It was because of Viktor that Yuuri even attempted competitive skating. 

When he finally made it to the Grand Prix Final last time with Phichit as his partner, Yuuri had eyes only for Viktor. That was part of the reason Yuuri had ruined everything and put them in last place. He'd been distracted, looking for Viktor in the stands when it happened. The fall hadn't injured him, but it had destroyed their chance at the podium. Phichit wasn't mad at him, but Yuuri would never forget the disappointment in his best friend's eyes after their free skate was over. 

Now, with Viktor sitting at a low table in the dining room of Yu-Topia eating katsudon and watching TV with his friends, Yuuri was completely flummoxed. All his memories of growing up watching Viktor skate resurfaced along with the last Grand Prix Final, coiling and mingling together until he broke out in a clammy sweat. 

“Yuuri,” his mother whispered from the kitchen. “Take that tall young man another bottle of sake.”

He cringed at the thought. 

Viktor didn't even remember him that well--if at all--from the Final. Yuuri certainly hoped he didn't remember his terrible fall. The longer he was around him, the more likely it was that Viktor would remember. Maybe. 

His hands shook as he took the tray of sake over to Viktor’s table. He was sitting with Mila, laughing about something in rapid fire Russian. Yuuri set the tray down and made to leave, but a strong hand flicked out to grab his wrist. 

“Yuuri! Stay with us!” Viktor slurred.

Yuuri’s heart spasmed in his chest and he blushed. “I'm working,” he protested. 

“Come on… I know you enjoy a good drink or two.” Viktor’s cheeks were an attractive cherry blossom pink. Yuuri could not stop looking at his face…at his lips… 

“Yeah, Yuuri. Sit with us. We haven't seen you since the last Grand Prix,” Mila chimed.

He knew it. They remembered everything. Or enough that they were interested in talking with him. Had Mila refreshed Viktor’s memory? Or had Yakov? Plisetsky? He sat down reluctantly and tried not to grimace as Viktor poured him a drink. 

“Why aren't you competing this season?” Viktor asked, throwing back his own drink. 

“I'm taking a season off. It had been a while since I came home to Japan,” Yuuri supplied. Not exactly a lie. Most of it was true. 

Mila smiled at him. “It's a lovely little town. I'm glad we're staying here until the NHK.”

“Are you moving to a hotel near the rink before the competition?” Yuuri asked. 

Mila nodded. “But Yakov wanted us to get off the beaten path. He's tired of Vitya’s publicity.”

Yuuri bristled slightly at the casual way Mila said the diminutive for Viktor’s name. He moved the conversation forward rather than dwell on it. “Are you practicing at Ice Castle?”

“Is that the rink up the road?” Viktor asked, setting his teacup down with a wobble. 

Yuuri nodded. 

“That's the one,” Mila answered. 

Yuuri frowned. He'd have to wake up twice as early if he wanted to get his practice time in before the Russians took over. Surely Yuko wouldn't mind. 

“Are you at least keeping up with your training?” Viktor asked, voice less slurred, more serious. 

Yuuri shrugged. “Not as intense as I had been working out in Detroit, but I still train.”

Viktor’s eyes pierced straight through him. Yuuri felt ten inches tall. What was his idol thinking, staring at him that way? Did he think Yuuri the failure he knew himself to be? He wanted to crawl under the table and hide. 

He sought refuge in the sake. Over the rest of the night, amidst the small talk, he managed to finish most of the bottle off himself. His mother brought more and he continued to drink, though Viktor and Mila had long since stopped. 

“I'm going to bed,” the red-head announced sometime later. 

Yuuri had lost track of what time it was. 

Viktor waved goodbye. 

When it was just the two of them alone in the entire room, Yuuri felt his pulse pound sluggishly through his body. He turned to Viktor and smiled. 

 

* * *

 

 

Viktor hardly recognized Yuuri when he first arrived. He didn't remember the blue-framed glasses or the messy black hair. When he thought of the other skater, he thought of a lithe body and slicked back hair--fiery brown eyes that sparkled on the ice. But he remembered now. Remembered every inch of the sultry, drunk muse before him. 

At the banquet after the Grand Prix Final last year, Yuuri had gotten dead drunk, danced like a fiend--on a pole no less--and draped himself all over Viktor begging him to be his skating partner. 

Now, in this little onsen in Japan, Yuuri was reliving his wild side. He was practically in Viktor’s lap now, mewling prettily and wriggling against him. Viktor failed to stop the red flush creeping into his face. 

“Viktor…I didn't know you were coming to Japan…” Yuuri whined. 

Viktor chuckled. He still felt a nice buzz from the sake, but the heavy feeling of drunkenness had dulled. His grip tightened around Yuuri’s deceptively strong frame. He wasn't sure what made him do it, but his hands wandered to the muscular back. 

“Oh? Would you have preferred to know beforehand?”

Yuuri pouted up at him. “You're my idol, you know. I've even got posters on my wall from your junior singles days.”

Every word fell like an anvil on his ears and Viktor blushed deeper. “You do?”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “Would you like to see?”

Viktor’s blush crept down his neck. Was Yuuri Katsuki inviting him up to his room? What should he say? 

Yuuri was attractive and skated like a dancer across the ice. It was a shame he'd taken that fall at the Grand Prix last year. Viktor had noticed the technical issues in the pair’s movements, but they had a beautiful symmetry to them that drew the eye. Viktor knew they wouldn't have placed, but if Yuuri hadn't fallen, he and his partner could have come in fourth perhaps. 

“Viktor…” Yuuri mumbled, twining his arms around Viktor’s neck. 

It was extremely distracting. 

“Sure, Yuuri,” flew out of his mouth before the logical part of his brain could catch up with him. 

If anything, Viktor could help Yuuri stand up properly. He looked like a newborn deer that couldn't keep its feet. He managed to help Yuuri up to a wobbly, upright position. 

“Oh, dear. I do apologize, sir. I can handle him from here,” a kindly looking Japanese woman said in careful English, coming from a curtain in the back of the room. 

“It's no trouble,” Viktor assured her. 

Turns out, it  _ was  _ trouble because Yuuri slid down the front of Viktor’s body at that exact moment to pool on the floor. 

She gasped and reached out to help, but Viktor just knelt down and picked Yuuri up, cradling him in his arms. The younger man was snoring softly. Viktor couldn't help the smile that nudged his lips. 

“His room is this way, if you're sure you don't mind carrying him.”

“Not at all. Lead the way.”

The older woman was short, barely coming up to Viktor’s chest and he had no trouble seeing over her as she led him down a hallway, up a narrow flight of stairs and into what he assumed to be the family living quarters. Yuuri’s room was at the very end of the hall. 

The woman opened the door and then moved out of Viktor’s way. He angled Yuuri’s body so he wouldn't hit the door frame and entered the room. It was dark, pale moonlight barely coming in through the windows beside the bed. He put Yuuri down onto the comforter on his side and stretched his back when he stood back up. 

“Thank you for your help,” the woman said. “My son doesn't hold his alcohol very well.”

Viktor smiled at the woman he now knew to be Yuuri’s mother. “It was my honor. Now, I'm afraid I might need help finding my own room. I don't quite remember how to get there.”

“Of course! Right this way,” she said. 

Viktor turned to follow, but looked back, remembering Yuuri mention the posters. Sure enough, every inch of Yuuri’s walls was covered in Viktor Nikoforov posters. Costumes he didn't even remember were on display. It brought a grin to his lips. Little Yuuri was full of surprises. 

He shut the door behind him and followed the woman down the hall. 

 

* * *

 

 

Yuuri awoke the next morning with a splitting headache and roiling nausea that refused to abate even after he vomited. On his way back from the washroom, he ran into Mari who was carrying linens down the hallway. 

“So you’re finally up?” she asked wryly. 

Yuuri groaned. 

“Heard you drank yourself under the table last night. Mom said Viktor had to carry you to your room,” Mari told him with an uncharacteristic cheerfulness. 

He froze. “Viktor had to carry me?!”

Mari smirked. 

“Oh god...kill me now.”

“I thought you were all lovey dovey for Viktor. Shouldn’t you be happy?” 

He cut dagger eyes at her. “I was drunk. I don’t even remember it! Besides, it’s embarrassing…”

She shifted the towels and sheets in her arms and popped out a hip. “Baby bro, I hate to tell you this, but you  _ are _ kind of embarrassing _. _ ”

With a wicked smile, he pushed the stack of towels and linens over, sending them careening onto the clean wooden floor. 

“Brat,” she sighed. 

“Nag,” he replied good-naturedly. 

It felt good to talk to Mari again, even if she was low-key making fun of him. He’d missed her while he’d been training with Phichit in Detroit. 

Back in his room, he dressed for the day. He felt a bit gross since he hadn’t had a shower, but he pushed it aside, knowing he needed to get downstairs to help his parents with the Russians. Checking his watch, he decided they’d probably still be in bed--ruined by jet lag. That’s what he prayed for as he drifted down the stairs, yawning. 

He practically ran into his mother. “Yuuri! How are you feeling?”

“Nauseous and I have a headache, but I’ll be fine,” he admitted. “Sorry about last night.”

Hiroko smiled and patted his arm. “It was good to see you having fun. Don’t worry. I’ve got some medicine that will help with that nausea. Come with me.”

He followed her mechanically, passing by the inn’s common room and feeling relieved to see it dark and empty. It was too early to face Viktor after what had apparently happened last night. His mother gave him a powdered anti-nausea medication and encouraged him to go to the hot spring before everyone got up. 

“It’ll do you some good, Yuuri. Trust me,” she winked. 

“Can’t I help with anything right now?”

“There will be plenty to do when you’re done with the spring,” she said, cheerfully.

True to her indication, the bathing room and spring were empty. Yuuri washed quickly, then hopped from foot to foot in the outdoor cold until he sank into the steaming waters. It felt heavenly and he groaned audibly, leaning back against the rocky edge. The clouds above looked heavy with snow. Yuuri stared at them for a long while, just enjoying the way the swirling gray above lulled him into a pleasant haze. 

He was shocked out of his mind when he heard, “Yuuri! Good morning!”

Scrambling to look back at the world around him, he sucked in a sharp breath when he saw Viktor standing at the doors leading from the bath house--completely naked. 

_ So very naked.  _

Yuuri had imagined seeing Viktor like that since puberty hit shortly after he’d found out about Viktor’s career in the first place. Now...the reality...it was breathtaking. Awe-inspiring. He was...a god among men. Chiseled muscles and pale, perfect skin. A figure cut in angled lines from years and years of skating...Yuuri’s mouth watered just looking at him. He refused to go lower than Viktor’s abdominal muscles, however. He was  _ not  _ ready for that sight--

“Feeling better today?” Viktor asked with a smile. 

Yuuri slumped into the water until it was up to his nose. His eyes flew wide and he tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound stupid. Viktor had taken him back to his room last night. Had anything happened? Had Viktor seen his ridiculous posters plastered all over Yuuri’s walls?  _ What a nightmare! _

Viktor kept that charming smile on his face as he came over and slipped into the onsen with Yuuri. Again, naked as the day he was born. Yuuri was painfully aware of that-- _ painfully aware _ . 

“I’mfeelingbetter,” Yuuri slurred out, sounding like an idiot, he was sure. 

“Really? That’s good,” Viktor said.

Viktor wasn’t sitting particularly close to him in the water, for which Yuuri was thankfully, but his presence still exuded a sensual vibrancy that sent shivers through his traitorous body. He’d never been this close to Viktor and the effect was palpable. Already, Yuuri was reacting to his nearness beneath the murky surface and his cheeks were flushed. It was fortunate that Viktor’s cheeks were also pink from the heat of the onsen. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice Yuuri’s discomfort.

“This is my first time being in Japan,” Viktor announced. “I like it here. You have a lovely little town.”

“Th-thank you,” he stammered, cursing his nervousness. 

Before he could prepare himself, Viktor moved closer--almost close enough for their thighs to touch beneath the water.  _ What is he doing?? _ Yuuri’s blush consumed his entire body. 

“So...why aren’t you competing this year?” Viktor asked, cocking his head so that his silver hair fell completely over his left eye. 

“I...er...,” Yuuri muttered, scooting away slightly. “I needed a break after the last season. Phichit agreed.”

“Is that your skating partner’s name?” Viktor blinked, eyes crinkling with mirth. 

“Yes.”

“Is he your lover?” Viktor leaned closer. 

“What?  _ Phichit?!  _ No! No no no!” Yuuri waved his hands for emphasis. 

“So you don’t have a lover?” Viktor asked with a grin. 

Yuuri blanched, shaking his head vigorously. 

“Ah. Good.”

_ Good. Good?! What does he mean by that?!  _ Yuuri’s thoughts whirled in his mind. 

To his everlasting relief, Viktor retreated and leaned back against the edge of the spring, closing his eyes. Yuuri could finally breathe again, though his heart was clamoring in his chest after that encounter.

Yuuri was ready--eager--to leave but if he got out, Viktor would see him naked. What if he thought Yuuri was unattractive? Scrawny?... _ small _ ? Already his fingers were pruned and wrinkly. He was growing uncomfortably hot. It was time to leave. Perhaps if he angled a certain way, he’d manage to hide his most sensitive areas. He swam around to the other side of the spring as quietly as he could, putting the bubbling fountain in the center of the spring between them, but when he looked back, Viktor was watching him intently. 

“Could you...not look at me while I get out?” Yuuri asked. 

“Shy?” Viktor raised an eyebrow. 

Yuuri closed his eyes and tried to breathe. “Yes, I’m shy.”

“Of course.”

Viktor closed his eyes and hummed to himself. 

Yuuri shot out of the spring as quickly as he could while being safe on the slick stones and grabbed a towel to wrap around himself. It was freezing out and already his skin was prickling over with gooseflesh. When he turned back to look at the incredibly handsome, distracting, and life-interrupting Russian lying in the hot spring, what he saw nearly crippled his soul. 

Viktor was watching him--some emotion Yuuri couldn’t decipher clear in his eyes. 

“You said you wouldn’t look!” Yuuri shot at him. 

“I just now opened my eyes. I heard you get the towel.”

“How could you possibly have heard that?”

The other skater smirked. “I have excellent hearing.”

Yuuri clamped his mouth shut and turned to leave. Just as his hand landed on the threshold of the door leading into the indoor baths he heard--

“You’re very beautiful, Yuuri.”

He stopped, eyes widening and staring at nothing.

Before Viktor could say anything else, Yuuri tightened his grip around his towel, stepped inside, and fled. 

 

* * *

 

 

Had he said too much? Viktor wasn’t sure. He’d only spoken the truth. Yuuri  _ was  _ beautiful. All lean muscle and curves that sparked the imagination. If only he’d looked  _ before  _ the towel went around those perfect hips. Alas, Viktor did try to be a gentleman  _ most _ of the time. Outwardly at least. Inwardly, he was trying to imagine what was beneath that towel…

_ Stop, Viktor _ . His mind told him.  _ You barely know him after all.  _

But something about Katsuki Yuuri teased his senses. Viktor searched his memories of the last Grand Prix Final. It wasn’t his custom to watch the other skaters’ routines, but for some reason, he remembered Yuuri and his partner’s last skate. The partner had skated well, but until Yuuri fell, he had been the center of Viktor’s attention. He had been utterly enchanting. His body fluidly moved with the music in a way that was exotic and beyond intentional.  _ Instinctive _ . Then that awful fall...and the spell was broken. 

At the banquet after the Final, Viktor had intended to speak with Yuuri about the technical mistake that had led to the accident--perhaps give him some tips to help his performance, but before he’d had the chance, a very drunk Japanese man had collapsed onto him and begged prettily for Viktor to join him as his skating partner. He’d never forget the watery hope in Yuuri’s eyes or the way his disheveled hair had skirted across the pale forehead--bisected by an ugly blue tie wound around his skull. Just remembering that night and the way they had danced after that sent VIktor’s body into an uncomfortable situation beneath the dark water of the spring. 

He rearranged his legs where he sat on the stony ledge and cleared his throat.

Had Yakov known that this place was connected with Katsuki Yuuri when he’d made the reservations? Surely not? Yakov would never play matchmaker. He hadn’t even seen the spectacle at the banquet last year--having gone to bed hours before. Viktor put a hand to his forehead and swept his sweat-soaked hair back over his head. He was overthinking this. It was a coincidence that Yu-Topia Katsuki just happened to be owned by Katsuki Yuuri’s family. A happy coincidence, though. 

Viktor shoved his thoughts from his mind, got out of the spring shivering, and set about getting dressed in the warmth of the bath house. He had more to think about right now than the beautiful Japanese skater that was quickly filling his mind. Like winning the pairs skate with Mila at the NHK Trophy at the end of their two week stay. It was also Yuri and Otabek’s first time in the senior division. He should be focused on tightening up their choreography before the Final. They’d won gold at both their qualifying events, so he felt confident they had a good chance at placing in the Final. If only Viktor could get Otabek to fix his free leg…

 

* * *

 

 

“Yuuri! You’re here early,” Yuuko chimed. 

Ice Castle was still dark--only a few lights on above the deserted rink. Yuuko stood next to Yuuri as he tied on his skates. 

“Well? What’s got you up here so early?” she asked, leaning down and letting her ponytail drift over her shoulder. 

Yuuri sighed, put his hands on his knees and looked her square in the eyes. “You won’t believe who’s staying at our place, Yuuko. Not in a million years.”

“Who?” she blinked. 

“Viktor Nikiforov, Mila Babicheva, Yuri Plisetsky, and Yakov Feltsman.”

She stared at him. 

Yuuri nodded. “It’s true.”

Yuuko burst out laughing. “Whatever, Yuuri. You’re terrible at trying to make jokes!”

“I’m not. Come and see for yourself,” he protested. 

“Well, if it is true, you better hide it from Axel, Lutz, and Loop,” she told him. “They’ll be swarming Yu-Topia in three seconds flat if the Russians really are there.”

“You’d better hide it from them, then, because I swear on my life that they are. I was in the hot spring this morning with Viktor and I nearly died of shock.”

Yuuko stopped laughing. “You’re not kidding, are you?”

“I’m not.”

Her eyes widened and then she squealed before cutting off her own sound with both hands. “Oh my god, Yuuri. You were naked in the springs with Viktor Nikiforov? The love of your life? Your  _ idol??? _ ”

His cheeks reddened. “Keep it down, please.”

“I wonder if they’ll want to rent time at the rink? Oh my gosh, Takeshi is going to flip!”

Yuuri groaned. The Russians were upsetting the delicate balance of his life. 

“That’s why you’re here early, isn’t it? To get in your practice time before their coach comes up here?”

“I don’t know when Yakov will come to see you, but I wanted to at least try to get in my practice with no one watching.”

“Hey--”

“No one except for you,” Yuuri corrected. 

“Well you better get started. It’s already almost 9am. The rink opens to the public at 11.”

Yuuri already knew that, but Yuuko liked to remind him of his time limits anyway. 

He stepped out onto the ice and skated to the center in lazy figure eights. He was too keyed up to do a routine, really, but he needed to at least get some jumping in. He’d forgotten to run this morning, so his legs were unusually fresh coming into his jumps. The doubles come too easily, so he moves on quickly to triple axels. After his muscles feel more awake, he moves on to his quad toe-loop--his favorite quad. It’s the only one he could still consistently land. Phichit had been able to land a salchow in competition as a single, but Yuuri still had trouble with it even in practice. 

By the time next season rolled around, Yuuri wanted to have the salchow down so that he and Phichit could add it to one of their new routines. 

If Phichit still wanted to skate with him after a season’s absence. 

Yuuri shooks his head as he spinned into another triple axel. He fell out of it and touched down, however, when a familiar and grating voice called out--

“Oi! Piglet! What are you doing skating on our ice?!”

Plisetsky. 

_ Damn.  _

And had he just called Yuuri a  _ piglet _ ? 

His nerves immediately frayed as he skated to a stop at the half wall hemming in the ice.

“Are you done yet? I need to work on my routine,” Yuri complained. 

“Where’s Otabek?” Yuuri asked, trying to summon his bravery. A fifteen year old shouldn’t scare him. 

“He’s meeting us here next week,” Yuri answered, steel glinting in his eyes. 

“Oh.”

Yuri shoved him as he skated onto rink and Yuuri nearly fell, but he caught himself on the wall. 

Looking around for Yuuko, Yuuri’s body stopped completely when he locked eyes with Viktor sitting in the stands. Had he been watching him practice this whole time? Where was Yuuko? His idol raised a hand and offered a smile, but Yuuri just cast his face down to the floor, put on his blade guards and strode off. 

This day was just getting worse and worse with every passing hour. 

Yuuri swallowed what little saliva was left in his throat and tried to force Viktor’s smiling face from his mind. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone! This is my first Yuri!!! on Ice fic and I hope you guys will like it! I've got the basic outline written out, but still have some work on it. As of now, I'm not sure how many chapters it will have, etc. As well, I'm not sure if I'll keep my chapters short like this one or eventually make them longer. What is your preference? Longer chapters or shorter? I had this idea and thought I'd run with it, so here we go! Thank you for reading!! I appreciate it. I'll try to answer any comments I receive as well. <3


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